More Soaps
by TigerButterflied
Summary: A sequel to Soap Opera. Sandles with a bit of Grillows.
1. Chapter 1

This is chapter one of the promised but overdue "Soap Opera" sequel. If you haven't read "Soap Opera" you might want to do so; this will make more sense if you do. I don't own the characters, never made money from them. This has a bit of Grillows as well as a lot of Sandles. Here ya go...

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Catherine's smile was smug as she nibbled on a crisp slice of bacon. "What?" Grissom asked, placing a steaming plate of eggs in front of her.

She shook her head. "Nothing, really. Just... thinking." She laughed at his raised eyebrow. "It's just funny how things turn out. People can be so predictable, yet at the same time they're full of surprises."

"Like Sara."

Catherine nodded. "She's actually the person I was thinking about."

Grissom smiled. "You were right, Catherine. In this particular case I had to hurt her to stop hurting her." He sighed. "I only wish I'd done it sooner."

Catherine took a sip from her very tall screwdriver. "I think things worked out perfectly myself. These last few weeks she's been happier than I've ever seen her."

"She obviously has a man in her life - the hickies on her neck attest to that. Any idea who he might be?"

Catherine smiled wickedly. "Oh, yeah."

"And?..."

"You know him."

Grissom's eyebrows raised. "How well?"

"Very well."

"It's not Sanders." His voice was full of certainty. "Maybe Nick." Catherine shook her head. "She and Warrick can't stand one another. Is he police?"

"Nope. He's one of ours."

Grissom frowned. "Well, Archie and David have girlfriends, and Bobby's married, and I know as much as he'd like it to be it CAN'T be Greg Sanders." He frowned, then awareness flowed through him as Catherine began laughing. "Greg Sanders! How? WHY?"

"Yes, Greg Sanders. How ? He courted her, treated her like a lady, swept her off her feet like he's been wanting to do since the night they met. Why? Well, I doubt any of us can tell why we love who we love. That's one mystery that science can't help us with."

Grissom was still frowning, but the lines of his face had softened. "Bizarre choice on her part, but he clearly makes her happy - a lot happier than I ever could."

Catherine took his hand. "No failing on your part, Gil - you two are oil and water. You aren't compatible. No amount of shaking could make it work."

He snorted, then glanced over at her. "And us?"

She smiled and leaned forward. "Oil and vinegar - a challenging combination, definitely in need of some shaking up, but definitely something worth a try."

Grissom smiled wickedly. "So Catherine, define 'shaking up...'"

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Sara Sidle awakened to the sensation of long, slightly hairy arms surrounding her. She smiled as memories of the previous night flowed over her. If anyone had told her six weeks ago she'd be spending her nights - or days, really - in bed with Greg Sanders she'd have suggested they get professional help. Yet here he was in her bed, where he'd slept every day since they'd become lovers ten days before. She'd been afraid he'd suffocate her; instead he was like oxygen, infusing her with life, not sucking it out of her. He had injected himself into every aspect of her life, engulfing her with his warm presence, and she was happier than she could remember.

She ran one finger over his cheek, and he responded by pulling her even closer. "I love you," he whispered into her neck, then sighed sleepily. She swallowed hard. He'd never said that before...


	2. Chapter 2

Here's Chapter Two. Still don't own them. I asked for them for my birthday, but my husband gave me candles instead. Oh, well. 

Sara frowned as she perused the newly unearthed, dessicated body in front of her. She glanced over at Nick and cocked her brow. "They buried her in a pile of sand. That sandstorm last week removed a good bit of the pile."

Nick grinned and snapped a photo. "Who's your mummy?" He moved closer. "She's laying on her purse; I see straps."

Sara looked around. "Whoever buried her went to a lot of trouble getting here."

Nick nodded. "Yup. Probably figured she'd stay buried, and even if she didn't, nobody would be around to find out."

Sara looked thoughfully at a nearby rock formation. "You gotta love hikers. Without them a lot of bodies would never be discovered."

Nick smiled but said nothing. Sara very well knew of his love for the sport. "So, Sara, how's old Greggo doing?"

She swallowed hard but otherwise didn't react. "You'd know better than I would, Nick. I really didn't talk to him before we left the lab. Too busy getting my stuff together for our desert adventure."

Nick chuckled. "You two are together; I know it, so you can go on and admit it. I thought we were friends, and here you are trying to keep something this big a secret from me."

"He TOLD you." Sara's eyes flashed. "I cannot believe this. He SWORE he'd keep his mouth shut..."

Nick laughed out loud. "And he did. You, however, YOU just told on yourself. You and Sanders' lovely artwork on your neck. I knew it was someone; I took a good guess, and you admitted it." No way Nick was admitting to his role as a catalyst in their courtship.

"You asshole!"

"Will you just calm down! This is just me, your old buddy Nick, the guy you should have told first thing. I'm not going to tell anyone; I just wanted to know." His voice softened. " I'll kick his ass if he isn't good to you."

Sara smiled. "I'll keep that in mind. "

Nick smiled. "You do that. Tell him I'll tie his skinny butt in a knot if he doesn't treat you like a princess." He turned and squatted next to the mummified corpse. "Now where's Dave Phillips when you need him?"

"So, what do we have? One very dessicated female body, and a purse containing ID, credit cards, and quite a bit of cash." Sara looked at the plastic card in her hands. "We need to confirm it, but it would appear that our mummy is one Barbara Jensen, age 44, of Reno. And since the license expired thirteen months ago, it's likely that Ms. Jensen has been deceased more than a year."

Nick shrugged. "Let's check Missing Persons." He hit a few keys on the computer and broke into a brad grin. "Barbara Ann Jensen of Reno Nevada, missing since January 14th of 2000. Fifteen months, Sara. It fits."

"So, I'll call for dental records, see if we can get something of hers for DNA comparison. "

"You just do that. The samples from your mummy are processing even as we speak - and might I say that I am never, ever going to eat beef jerky again." Greg slid in next to Sara and silently mouthed 'Hey, baby.'

Sara shook her head. "Okay. So at least we have an idea who she is. We still don't have a clue what happened to her."

"Au contrare, Ms. Sidle; I beg to disagree." Greg was smirking as he spoke, his brown eyes alight with emotions totally unrelated to the case before them. "Our dried-out friend had a lethal amount of oxycodone in her system, and even if she'd survived the initial crisis she would have expired from liver failure within a few weeks. She had a massive amount of acetaminophen in her as well."

Sara's eyebrows rose. "Percocet."

"Or its generic twin. " Greg's arm brushed hers as he edged closer. "She had on board some serious drugs. The levels were way too high for an accidental overdose."

"Maybe she was poisoned. Killer could have put the pills in a drink, maybe in food."

Sara shook her head. "No way. Acetaminophen is really bitter. No way she would have missed the taste."

"Not with the amount she had in her system." Greg frowned. "She'd have had to take at least thirty pills to get those tissue levels."

"Probably not suicide. I doubt she buried herself under a big pile of sand."

Greg shrugged. "All I can tell you now is what was in her blood. Get me something to compare it with and maybe I can tell you who she was as well."

Sara shot him a brief grin. "Thanks, Greg. This is surprising, but helpful."

"Good. I was definitely going for surprising yet helpful." The door swung shut behind him.


End file.
